Star Wars - Use the Force
by GoodShipSherlollipop
Summary: Molly Holmes wants a reluctant Sherlock to take her to the cinema to see "Star Wars: The Last Jedi." Sherlock would rather do other things while they are there. Sherlolly. Sensual but not explicit.
1. Using the Force

**Author's note:** If you haven't seen "Star Wars - The Force Awakens," you are insane - just kidding. This is just to let you know that there is a major spoiler from the movie in this chapter, so be forewarned!

 **Special note:** New cover image added from my reader, **Elizabeth Robello** on 5/20/19. Thank you, my friend!

* * *

Sherlock was sitting at his desk in the sitting room, tapping away on his laptop, checking his email for potential clients when Molly came into the room.

She walked up to him and snatched the laptop away, closing it.

"Hey," he protested, "I was doing work!"

"Sherlock Holmes, I did not wheedle Mike into giving me the week between Christmas and the new year off in order for you to leave me at home while you go on one of your cases," she told him sternly, setting the laptop down on the coffee table.

"I would have invited you to go with me," he tried saying, not meeting her eyes. "I've done it before."

"A likely story," scoffed Molly. "You are really going to take your pregnant wife along while you investigate a murder?"

"They're not _all_ murder cases, you know. I get a lot of requests to track cheating spouses."

"Nevertheless," she informed him sternly, "this week is about us spending quality time together."

"Sweetheart," he cane to her and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, "every moment I spend with you is quality time."

Molly slid her arms around his waist. "You always know just the right thing to say," then she added, "but you are not going to distract me from my current objective."

"Does it involve a lot of cuddling?" asked her husband hopefully.

"Well, in a way, I guess; if you mean cuddling on the sofa and watching films together."

"Is this cuddling likely to lead to certain...other activities?" he asked cheekily.

"Impossible man," she pretended to be cross but couldn't keep up the act. "We'll see."

"What films are you proposing we watch?"

"'The ones I just gave you for Christmas," she said immediately.

Sherlock groaned. "You want to watch all seven Star Wars movies?"

Molly nodded, "Yup."

He gave her a shrewd look. "And I presume you wish to watch these because that new film is out, and you want me to take you to see it?"

"Right as always, my love. I know you saw the original three movies in your university days."

"Yes, but I didn't see the others. Didn't people say they were awful? It never made sense to me that George Lucas made them out of order."

"I don't know either. I don't think the newer movies were terrible, except for that horrid Jar Jar Binks character. I liked Natalie Portman though. You know, she played Thor's love interest in a couple of the Thor movies."

Then she added impishly, "That Chris Hemsworth with his flowing, golden locks is so hot."

Sherlock huffed. "First you tell me you had a teenage crush on the blonde-haired Leonardo DiCaprio. Now you tell me that blonde Thor is hot. I am starting to get a complex."

She tweaked one of her husband's gorgeous raven curls. "Honey, I can acknowledge a man as handsome without feeling any romantic attraction to him. You're the only one who ignites my passion. Besides, you know I adore your hair."

"I suppose so. You've told me that on enough occasions that I've started to think it's all you love about me." He pouted.

Molly wound her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her level for a fiery kiss. Then she said, "You've made me tell you other things I love about you, like your lips and your cheekbones and your incredibly sexy, deep voice..."

"This one?" he murmured in his deep baritone that still thrilled her, no matter how many times he talked to her that way.

"Oh yes," she said, a little breathlessly.

He wrapped his strong arms around her. "Can we finish the Star Wars conversation later? I'd rather have a conversation without words right now."

"No!" Molly squeaked, wriggling free, albeit reluctantly, from her husband's grasp. "Every time I start a conversation with you, it leads to the bedroom, and I end up putting off what I needed to say. We need to watch the films now if we are to see the new one before I have to go back to work next week."

Sherlock pouted, then furrowed his brow. "Why do you want to see this film so badly when those others weren't so great?"

"The last one that cane out a couple years ago was fantastic! I've been dying for the new one to hit the cinemas so I could see it. Kaitlyn saw it with David as soon as it was released, and she loved it."

"Are you sure you want to do this, Molly?" questioned Sherlock. "Look what happened when you dragged me to see _Titanic_ a couple weeks ago. We watched the film for twenty minutes, spent the next half an hour or so kissing, then left the cinema early."

Molly blushed. "That was entirely different. I knew the film was already available, as you did not hesitate to remind me, on Blu-ray. The new one won't be out on Blu-ray for months, and I don't want to wait that long."

"So no sitting in the back row and distracting you this time? This film is beginning to sound less and less appealing."

Molly swatted at his arm. "You get to take me home afterwards, though. And I'm nothing if not appreciative of your efforts to indulge me. Besides," she added, "I'm pregnant, and you need to spoil me, as you yourself said. Do I have to 'use the force' on you?"

Sherlock sighed. "Fine. I suppose I'll be buying you an extra large popcorn and drink this time?"

It was Molly's turn to pout. "Now you're making fun of my renewed appetite."

"Well you did eat a remarkably large Christmas dinner at my parents' house," he pointed out.

"Keep it up and you'll be sleeping on the sofa tonight, husband dear."

Sherlock reached for Molly again and cupped his hands around her face, planting a lingering kiss on her lips before saying in a deep voice, "You would never do that to me, baby. You'd miss me too much. Besides, you like to think of me as your personal heater, remember?"

Molly melted against him, putting her own arms around him. That combination - calling her "baby" as well as lowering his voice to its deepest pitch was always her undoing.

"I take it by your actions that you are no longer considering making me sleep on the sofa?" Sherlock asked with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Molly could only nod her head. She barely heard his next words over the sound of blood thrumming in her ears.

"I'll take you to the damn film, and I'll watch the others, but right now, I feel in need of some other entertainment."

She might only have vaguely registered the words, but she definitely knew his intentions when he picked her up into his arms and carried her to their bedroom, where he kissed her demandingly and made short work of disrobing them both.

Some time later, she peeked up at him from where she lay, nestled in his arms. He had a self-satisfied grin on his face.

"You look awfully proud of yourself," she commented.

"Shouldn't I be?" he asked playfully. "I didn't even have to use the force on you to get you to comply with my wishes."

"Oh, Sherlock," she smiled back, "It isn't compliance when I am in full agreement with what you want."

After a short nap, the couple dressed again and returned to the sitting room for a marathon viewing session of Star Wars films.

It took two days and a late night to get through them, especially when they had to stop for meals, for Molly to make one of her frequent trips to the loo, thanks to her pregnancy induced overactive bladder, and of course the inevitable returns to the bedroom for more "non-verbal communication" as Sherlock like to call it.

Actually, when they watched _Star Wars: The Force Awakens,_ Molly had sobbed so hard during Han Solo's death scene, that Sherlock had paused the film, kissed away her tears and comforted her, then kissed her some more. Of course, one thing led to another and well, on that occasion they hadn't even made it to the bedroom. Nor had they even taken off all their clothes. There was something very sensual about making love, partially clothed, outside of the bedroom.

Finally though, armed with all the knowledge of the various films (except for some perts when they would get a little distracted and start kissing), they were ready to head to the cinema for a viewing of _Star Wars: The Last Jedi._

Molly was quite excited about it, Sherlock not so much. He had agreed the last film was the best one to date, but would have been content to wait for the new one to be released on Blu-ray so they could buy it to watch at home.

"How long is this film, anyway?" he asked during the taxi ride.

"Two hours and thirty-three minutes," she responded. She had looked it up, knowing her husband was bound to ask.

"So long?" he groaned. "How am I going to sit in a crowded theatre for that length of time?"

"The film came out two weeks ago and we are seeing a matinée, so it won't be crowded," she pointed out.

"Can we sit in the back, then?" he asked hopefully.

Molly rolled her eyes. Why did she get the feeling that her husband was not planning on focussing his full attention on the film, but more likely, her?

"We'll see," she said non-committally.

Upon entering the cinema, they looked around. There weren't too many people around fortunately. Sherlock bought their tickets from a young man , then asked, "Large or extra large popcorn? What size drink?"

"It's quite a lengthy movie, but I think a large of each will suffice."

"Anything else? Chocolate bar or other snacks?"

"Good Lord, Sherlock. I didn't come here to binge-eat. I came to watch a film. Just the popcorn and a Coke please."

Sherlock bought the items, and they made their way into the screening room. It wasn't completely full, but there were still a good amount of people there, mainly teenagers and young couples.

Molly saw Sherlock's eyes immediately search the rear of the room. The back row had two couples seated, one a pair of teenagers who were obviously of the same opinion about what the back row of a theatre was for as Sherlock was, because they were already kissing. There was room for Sherlock and Molly to sit on the end and still have several seats between them and the snogging teenagers.

Sherlock, without waiting for Molly's approval, walked determinedly up the aisle and stopped at the back row, then motioned for Molly to precede him. "You go first," he whispered. "That way, I can stretch my legs in the aisle if I'm feeling too cramped." He handed her the popcorn and drink then seated himself.

As the previews began, Sherlock nonchalantly put his arm along the back of Molly's seat. She deliberately ignored it, taking a handful of popcorn and putting it in her mouth, then taking a sip of Coke. She offered both to her husband, and he accepted the drink for a sip, then handed it back to her. He obviously had no desire to remove his arm from the back of the seat.

Once the feature started, Molly settled back in her seat to watch. Being so far back was not her favourite position from which to view a film, but at least Sherlock was behaving.

Molly continued to eat the popcorn and sip her drink every few minutes. Sherlock still refused the popcorn, but occasionally accepted the proffered drink. Half an hour into the movie, she felt Sherlock's arm slide down from the back of her seat to cover her shoulders. She was surprised it had taken him that long.

She tried to ignore his arm and hand that was gently massaging her shoulder, just as she was trying to ignore the unmistakable sounds of kissing coming from the other two couples in the back row. She was not going to let him distract her from this film!

Then his wandering hand moved to caress her neck, sending little electrifying tingles through her body.

"Stop it," Molly hissed, turning to look at Sherlock.

He was looking at her with hooded eyes. "Stop what?"

Molly tried to remember why she was cross with him. _Oh yes, the film_. She opened her mouth to tell him off, but his other hand reached for her face and before she knew it, he had leaned towards her to give her a steamy kiss. The kiss went on and on, and Molly's mind kept getting foggier. His lips were so sensual and had been the cause of several of their close calls during their engagement when things had become a little heated between them. Fortunately something had always happened to interrupt them from taking things too far.

 _Good Lord,_ she thought, _we are acting like those other two couples, and we are twice the age of at least the teenage pair._

Sherlock apparently was not at all concerned, he was too busy demanding a response to his fervent kisses.

In the relative darkness of the cinema, Sherlock made his next move, sliding his hand inside her blouse, reaching up to place his hand firmly over her bra. She gasped at his audaciousness.

"Sherlock, the film!" she made one last attempt, trying to use the force to make him pay attention. It didn't work.

The film was totally forgotten as Sherlock started to slide his hand under her bra. She had had enough. He was not to be stopped apparently, and she didn't want to cause a scene. "I give up," she whispered. "Let's go home. But I'm taking the popcorn."

Her naughty husband removed his hand from under her blouse, with a satisfied smirk that said _I'm Sherlock Holmes, and I always get what I want._

They hastily left the theatre and headed for home.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Sherlock was certainly being a naughty boy wasn't he? He did try to tell Molly he wasn't really interested in going to see the film, though.

What is going to happen next?

Please review my story and give your opinion about Sherlock's behaviour.

By the way, if you want to see what happened when they went to see _Titanic_ , you can check out my one-shot about it.

 **Note:** Updated for revisions/corrections/better flow on 5/20/19.


	2. First Fight and Reconciliation

Molly crossed her arms over her chest throughout the ride and refused to speak. She was not amused, and she stomped up the stairs as soon as they arrived home.

Once safely inside the flat, Molly dropped the popcorn onto the coffee table and put her hands on her hips. She looked at her husband with tears of indignation in her eyes. This was going to be their first row as a married couple, and she needed to stand her ground.

"Sherlock," she said, trying to keep a tight rein on her emotions. Anger warred with desire. She didn't know if she was really cross with him or herself for pushing him into seeing a film he really wasn't interested in. "You know how much I wanted to see that film, and you basically ruined it for me." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "I guess I shouldn't have pushed you to go with me, so I'm at fault too. I should have just asked a friend like Kayla to go with me."

Sherlock hung his head. There was silence between then for a few seconds. He was looking down at his feet. When he looked up, she was surprised to see tears in his eyes as well.

"Molly, I went too far. I acted like a silly, immature kid, not a forty-year-old man. I have no reasonable excuse for my behaviour. I should have kept my eyes on the screen and instead, I was looking at you. Every time I look at you too long I lose control of my higher functions. All I want to do is kiss you and be with you."

"You didn't watch the film at all?" she questioned, surprised. "We were there for half an hour before you started getting handsy with me."

"I said I'd take you to the film. I never said I'd actually watch it," he responded, looking down again.

Molly advanced toward him when she caught sight of the tear thar slid down his face, to his chin and then the floor.

"You really stared at me for thirty minutes while I was watching the film?"

He continued to stare at the floor and another tear splashed down. "Yes."

Molly's heart broke then and she went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest and feeling the vibration of his thudding heart. His arms cane around her too and they just stood there for several minutes.

Finally, they looked at each other and said in unison, "I'm sorry." Sherlock's kiss of apology was sweet and gentle.

Molly took his hand and led him to his chair. He sat while she grabbed a couple of tissues for them to blow their noses, then she sat on his lap sideways and rested her head on his chest again. It was with some surprise that she realised his heart was now beating at an accelerated rate. He made no move however, other than to stroke her hair.

"Sherlock, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, my love," cane his deep rumble which she felt vibrate through his chest.

"When you were looking at me, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking a lot of things, what a remarkable woman you are, how lucky I am- no, how _blessed_ I am. I was thinking about our beautiful little girl you ate carrying. I was thinking about the way you light up any room when you're in it. The list goes on and on. I could never get tired of looking at you, the curve of your lips when you smile and the dimples that appear in your cheeks when you do so, the adorable way you blush whenever I say something a little naughty."

She slipped her arms around his waist and held him tightly as he continued.

"The problem is, the more I'm with you, the more I want to be with you. I'm not just meaning in a sexual way, although that's part of it. The events at Sherrinford were over seven months ago, and since that time you've consumed my thoughts so often. My mind palace is dominated with you. I remember every time we've made love, every conversation we've had because I don'r want to delete anything when it comes to you."

Molly was touched by the raw honesty in his words. She shifted a little so she could gaze into his beautiful eyes. "You don't need to remember every detail of every conversation we've had, just the important ones. Maybe you need to find a balance so you have room for other things. I would not want to be the reason you stop taking cases because you are too concerned with me and what I'm doing. I'd like nothing more than to spend every waking minute of every day with you, but reality dictates otherwise. We need to earn a living to provide for our future and that of our little girl and other future children. Once the baby comes, our attention will shift focus to include her as well."

"I'm jealous already about sharing you, even if it is with our own child," he admitted, with a quirk to his lips.

Molly laughed. "She isn't even here yet and you're jealous! I wish we could have had more time together, just the two of us, and if we were a few years younger we probably would have, but I believe our baby is going give us an even closer bond."

Sherlock raised a hand to stroke her cheek. "I know I've been acting a little obsessive. Perhaps it's because I had to exert strict self-control over myself when we were engaged. Well, most of the time I succeeded; I did slip up on occasion. Then, once we were married, I was so happy to be able to release that iron grip and do everything I'd been fantasising about with you, that I allowed myself to have no control at all."

Molly leaned towards him and kissed his lips softly. "I'm not complaining about that. I lose myself in you all the time. This afternoon though, it was more about the timing. I know you went too far when you put your hand under my blouse, because it started turning my brain to mush. Kissing is one thing, but when you start touching me like that I feel my own self-control slipping, so I had to take control and leave, and that is what upset me."

"I promise I'll never do that again," Sherlock said sincerely. "Strictly kissing only if we are in a cinema. Can I have a second chance?"

"What do you mean?" Molly asked, slightly confused at his words.

"Let me take you back there tomorrow to see the film. We'll sit closer to the front and I will stick to putting my arm around you as we watch together. Maybe steal a quick kiss once or twice during a slow moment in the movie." His eyes pleaded with her.

"You don't need to do that, honey. You already do so much for me, you indulge my every whim. I shouldn't be so selfish in making you do everything I want."

"I do what you want because it makes me happy to do it. I like to do things for you, and I'm still years behind when it comes to making up for lost time."

She leaned forward and kissed his nose. "And I've told you before it isn't a competition. As long as we are both giving of ourselves, we are also receiving. Nobody could ask for more."

Sherlock pursed his lips. "Well, I will brook no arguments about tomorrow. We are going to the movie because this time it's my choice and you want to make me happy, right?"

"Alright." Molly removed her hands from his waist. "And now we've had this talk, I really need the loo."

Sherlock chuckled.

"Yeah, I know," Molly said, as she hopped off his lap and headed towards the bathroom. "I really know how to kill a conversation."

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Sherlock was at the door. She stared at him in surprise and he shrugged.

"You've heard how some men get sympathetic morning sickness? Well, I think I have sympathetic bladder urges," he explained.

Molly giggled, stepping aside so he could enter the bathroom. Then she had an idea. She went into their bedroom and closed the door behind her. "Don't come into the bedroom," she called through the communicating door to the bathroom. "I need to do something."

"Okay, love," cane the response.

Molly walked over to a drawer that was filled with lingerie Sherlock had given her, her hen night gifts and a couple pieces she had bought herself while out shopping with her friends during her engagement. She had bought them for the honeymoon and had been surprised to discover Sherlock had also bought her lingerie for the same purpose.

Molly looked at the pile of sheer and lacy underclothes. She immediately discounted the corsets, because they would no longer fit over her protruding belly. She also discounted the red babydoll she had worn for the "First Christmas" re-creation they had done a couple weeks earlier. She ended up selecting the beautiful purple sheer babydoll which was another of Sherlock's selections for their honeymoon.

Molly heard the toilet flush and the sound of water running as her husband washed his hands. "What are you doing in there?" he enquired curiously from the other side of the connecting door.

"Um, just wrapping a Christmas present," she hedged. Well, she _was_ wrapping herself as a gift for him, so it wasn't really an out-and-out lie.

Quickly she disrobed and shoved her clothes out of sight under the bed, then put on the babydoll as Sherlock's voice cane through the door again. "Christmas is over. Why would you be wrapping a present now?"

 _Ugh, impossibly logical man,_ she thought. "I forgot something, I'll just be a minute." She slid under the duvet and called. "You can come in now."

Sherlock entered and looked around the room, obviously searching for the mysterious present. He saw her under the covers and asked, "What on earth are you doing in bed, and where's the present you said you were wrapping?"

"I hid it under the covers," she answered with a little smirk.

She saw realisation dawning on his face as he took a step towards the bed and enquired, "Are you saying that _you're_ my present?"

"Why don't you come closer and find out?" invited Molly with a seductive smile.

"Uh..." he stammered, and she saw the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he tried to get the words out, "are you expecting me to join you under the covers...naked?"

"What do you think?" she purred, enjoying the way he stripped in a matter of thirty seconds, then slid under the covers to join her. His eyes widened in surprise to discover she was not naked as he was. He peeped under the duvet and inhaled sharply.

"Oh, Molly," he breathed. "You sure know how to drive a man wild, don't you?"

"The only man I am interested in driving wild is you, my adorable husband."

Sherlock smiled, then drew her against his long length. His mouth found hers, and his tongue explored her lips, then her mouth, prompting him to say, "You still taste like popcorn, sweetheart."

Her fingers tangled in his curls as she felt him slide one thin strap from her shoulder, then the other, as he pressed kisses along both shoulders. His large hand cupped her breast and caressed it through the fabric and she moaned at the sensation.

"Arms up," he ordered, and she complied, so that he could remove the fabric that was hindering their skin contact, followed by the scrap of lace that was definitely not designed to wear as knickers on a regular basis.

They were both swept away by the desire that consumed them, but took their time, exploring each other and kissing, always going back to kissing because their lips belonged together as did their bodies in a perfect union. And it was beautiful and intense, even more-so than usual perhaps, because of their earlier row, if one could even call it that.

As always, afterwards, she lay in her husband's embrace, content beyond imagining. Despite the early hour, they drifted into sleep until their stomachs alerted them to the fact that it was past dinnertime.

Molly stirred and asked drowsily, "Why did I even bother to wear that babydoll? You had it off within five minutes."

"Mmm," murmured Sherlock, kissing her hair. "It's all about the anticipation of unwrapping the gift, and you, my darling, are always an exceptional one."

Molly smiled and wondered again at how blessed she was to have found this romantic man hidden inside that prickly exterior he'd once exhibited. He had definitely been worth waiting for.

* * *

 **Author's note:** The best part of having a fight is making up afterwards LOL

I know this story could have ended right here, but I couldn't not go on to one more chapter so people can find out what happens when they go to the movies again.

Will Sherlock behave himself next time? What do you think?

 **5/22/19** Revised for corrections and better flow.


	3. The Last Jedi and the Late Princess

**Author's note:** Warning, tiny Carrie Fisher related spoiler ahead.

* * *

As promised, Sherlock accompanied Molly to the next day's viewing at the same time, of the new Star Wars movie.

The same attendant served them as he sold them tickets.

He had obviously recognised Sherlock the previous day but had been too polite to say anything about recognising the famous detective. This time however, he commented, "Enjoy the show, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. You must be real Star Wars fans to come see it two days in a row."

The couple exchanged knowing looks and smiled.

This time, when Sherlock asked if she wanted popcorn, Molly declined. She had had enough popcorn for awhile, having munched on the rest of the last bag periodically the previous evening as they sat on the sofa and cuddled, watching crap telly in between bouts of tender kisses.

"I'd better not have a drink either," she told him, "otherwise I'll most certainly be up during the middle of the film to go to the loo."

Sherlock chuckled. "You didn't think of that yesterday? Just as well we left early."

Molly poked out her tongue playfully at him and he grabbed her hand.

They walked into the same viewing room, with the same assortment of people. This time Sherlock didn't even glance at the back row, fixing his gaze instead on a pair of seats towards the centre, about a third of the way back.

"Excuse me," he apologised to several people as they squeezed by them to take the vacant seats. Their row afforded them one empty seat on either side so at least it gave them a slight buffer. Molly knew Sherlock disliked being in crowds. They could have taken seats a few rows further back and had more room, but she knew he wanted her to have a good view of the screen, so much so that he was willing to endure the discomfort of having his legs tucked in rather than being next to the aisle so he could have more room for them.

"I appreciate it," she murmured, giving his cheek a swift kiss. He merely smiled, stretching his long legs out as far as they would go in the cramped space. Poor darling, he was definitely going to have cramped legs by the end of the movie.

True to his word, Sherlock spent the bulk of the film with his arm draped around Molly, only darting in for the occasional quick kiss. She snuggled into his one-armed embrace. His other hand he extended towards hers and they interlocked their fingers at times. At others, he toyed absently with her wedding band and engagement ring, twirling them around. Still other times he stroked her palm with his thumb. It was very soothing and incredibly sweet.

Sherlock actually kept his gaze fixed on the action for the most part, and Molly knew they would be able to share their opinion of the film afterwards. After all, wasn't that the reason to see a film with someone, so you could discourse at length with that person afterwards about what you liked or didn't like?

Sherlock put up with her tears at various times throughout, with comforting shoulder squeezes, and joined in with laughter at some of the one-liners.

Then, as the credits rolled and Molly saw on the screen, _"In loving memory of our princess, Carrie Fisher,_ " she cried again.

Sherlock sat with her as the cinema emptied, waiting for her to regain control, offering her tissues from his trouser pocket. Molly, who was a naturally emotional person, was even more-so now that she was pregnant, and he always kept a few tissues at the ready, in case she needed them.

"I'm sorry Sherlock," she sniffled through her tears. "It's just so sad, the way she died just after her mother did. I'm so glad it seems like she got all her scenes completed for this film though. But what are they going to do without her during the next one?"

"I suppose we shall find out. I'm sure I'll be taking you to the next one in two years' time."

"You promise?"

"I promise - unless of course you are nine months or so pregnant with baby number two."

That made her stop crying and she remarked, "A Christmas baby would be rather nice."

Sherlock laughed. "Well, let's bring our daughter into the world safely first, and then we'll see."

Molly beamed, her earlier sadness forgotten. Sherlock kissed his wife softly, and they made their way out of the cinema.

On the way home from the cinema, Sherlock commented unexpectedly to Molly, "When I was playing with your rings earlier, I was thinking they could probably use a cleaning. I have a couple errands to run tomorrow. May I borrow them and get them cleaned?"

Molly shrugged. "Now's probably as good a time as any. I suppose soon I won't be able to get the rings off. I've heard a lot of women say they start retaining water towards the end of their pregnancy, and their ankles and fingers swell." She worked off the rings and handed them to him, saying, "Don't keep them for too long. I'll miss them."

"I won't," Sherlock promised as he pocketed them and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

The couple stopped at Sherlock's (and now, Molly's too) favourite chip shop off Marylebone Road. As usual, Joe was there to give them an extra large portion at no extra cost.

"Should we take a taxi the last few blocks, or walk?" asked Sherlock, ever mindful of the end of year cold temperature and not wanting Molly to exert herself.

"I'm fine with walking, if you'll just keep your arm around me and I can hold the chips to keep my hands warm."

Sherlock did as she asked, and they walked the few minutes to the flat in companionable silence.

As soon as they entered 221B, sherlock took off his Belstaff and scarf, then helped Molly off with her jacket and scarf after she put down the chips.

The late December wind had made their faces rather cold, so Sherlock suggested reasonably that they spend a few minutes kissing to warm up. Their cold lips and faces soon heated as they became more involved in the embrace, chips temporarily forgotten. After about five minutes of this very successful method of warming up, the couple reluctantly disengaged themselves from one another and sat down to eat the chips which were not yet cold, but definitely no longer hot.

Molly did full justice to the meal, due mostly to her larger appetite because of the baby. Usually there were chips left over, but not this time.

Molly took the last chip and chewed, then swallowed. She felt guilty when she saw Sherlock studying her.

"I'm sorry," she apologised. "Were you still hungry?"

"Yes," he said, and she made as if to rise to find something else for him to eat, before he stopped her with his arm and added, "but not for food."

Molly blushed. How was it he still had the capacity to do that to her, even after they had been together for seven months? She felt hot all over at his simple words, and her mouth ran dry.

She licked her lips and said, trying to appear unaffected by him, "I was so proud of you today."

Sherlock snaked a hand around her waist, as they sat side-by-side at the kitchen table. "You were? Why?"

"As if you didn't know," she responded. "I'm proud of the fact that you behaved during the film and paid attention." She looked at him and noticed his pupils were dilated, and she could see the desire in his eyes.

"What would you say if I told you I very much want to _mis_ behave with you right now?" he asked silkily.

Molly gulped. "I'd ask for a five minute rain check so I can go to the toilet."

Sherlock sighed. "Every time I try to flirt with you, you have to use the loo. My technique must be rubbish."

"No it isn't," Molly assured him, "but my bladder is. This isn't the movies you know. Real people have to use the toilet, some more often than others." She grinned at her disconcerted husband.

When she exited the bathroom, once again her adorable man was standing there, waiting for his turn. "I only need to go, because you reminded me of it," he huffed.

"Would you like a repeat of yesterday, as in me putting on some lingerie?" she asked cheekily.

"No," he retorted. "Just get naked and under the covers. I'm not in the mood to take the extra time to undress you." He swatted her bum playfully and went into the bathroom, while Molly did as she was told and got comfortable under the duvet.

Sherlock returned to the room, disrobed and joined her in the bed. "Dammit, Molly." he complained, "I _was_ in the mood, but then I had to use the loo and got out of it. I guess we are going to have to spend some time kissing."

"I'm not complaining, kissing is a very productive use of my time, and we always spend plenty of time kissing before anything else anyway." Molly pressed up against him as she spoke, well as closely as she could get with that ever-growing belly in her way, kissing him with sweet, passionate kisses designed to leave them both wanting more.

She eventually broke off their tender embrace and was rewarded by a groan from Sherlock. "Bloody hell, how do you do that to me, woman?"

"Do what?" she asked playfully as she wound her arms around his neck and looked directly into his beautiful blue-green eyes. She knew exactly what he was talking about but, woman-like, wanted to hear the words.

"You make me.." he leaned into her ear and whispered some deliciously naughty things that made her blush, but at the same time made her heart flutter with intense desire for her husband.

"Ohhh," was the last word she said, before there was nothing but the sounds of love between them as they expressed their love and devotion in the most intimate way possible between a man and woman.

And their coming together was perfect as always, because they had the blessing of God behind it.

* * *

 **Matthew 19:4-5**

(4)...at the beginning the Creator 'made them male and female,' (5) and said, 'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.'

* * *

 **Author's note:** So, Sherlock behaved himself and got his just reward afterwards.

And yeah, pregnant women have to use the bathroom - a lot.

I hope you found this a fitting end to this little story. Did you like my little flight of fancy? Are you a Star Wars fan? Were you moved by the Carrie Fisher dedication at the end? In truth, I cried at that, just as Molly did.

There's a tiny hint in here about an upcoming one-shot, but you'll have to wait and see what it is!

 **5/22/19** Updated for corrections and better flow. If you come to this story late, remember, it ism;too late to leave feedback on it. These improvements were made as a direct result of my attention being directed to the sort by receiving a review on it.


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